Let Us All Make History

Common Room Conversation

Sherlock POV: This was the first time Sherlock had the pleasure to be in the Gryffindor common room, and to be quite honest it was something that he might not want to repeat. Of course everyone loved them both, they knew John from their years spent in the castle and they knew Sherlock from not only watching him in the tournament but watching him in the hallways as well. Word spread quickly, and they hadn't tried to hide anything, and so when they strolled into the common room arm in arm, well there really wasn't any questions asked. It was a peculiar way to hide the common room, almost as if the creators had really thought that the castle would be attacked and the painting would confuse those who ran right by. Sure it might be a good defense from foreigners, like Sherlock who had walked by the portrait of the Fat Lady without any questioning what might be behind it. But anyone from Hogwarts that may have gone rouge, well it almost made trying to hide the common room sound kind of silly. The Fat Lady was very nice, although she seemed to be rather nervous about admitting Sherlock into the common room, as if he was intentionally going to break in so as to find out all the closely guarded Gryffindor secrets. John introduced the two, spoke very highly of Sherlock, and boasted once more about how he had the honor of having Sherlock as his boyfriend. It was very flattering of course, and finally when Sherlock was blushing and the Fat Lady looked very happy, the portrait finally swung open and they were admitted into the common room. From what Sherlock knew of Gryffindors he didn't expect his greeting to be any less, as soon as they saw John and he together they all gave a great whoop of excitement, pausing their homework and their card games so as to give the two a warm welcome. Sherlock went a bit red once more, for really he didn't think he deserved this praise for just walking in somewhere, but nonetheless it was flattering and he very much appreciated it. The common room was decorated in the same colors as the rest of the house, with red and gold everywhere you look. It was a cozy sort of place, with squashy arm chairs in front of a roaring fire, the place dotted with tables and chairs for homework before breaking off into two separate stair cases in the back, presumably for sleeping arrangements. Greg and Mike were lounging in the armchairs with their textbooks forgotten on their laps, seemingly counting things off on their fingers before realizing that John had made his entrance. Evidently they had anticipated their arrival, for they kicked two kids out of the other armchairs so as to make room.
"John, glad you could make it!" Greg said sarcastically, as if he wasn't expecting John could make the climb from the Great Hall to the Gryffindor common room without getting lost. Sherlock was surprised more people weren't at dinner, for he wasn't very hungry (nerves, probably) however he was sure other people must be? Maybe the Gryffindors had interesting eating schedules, who knows? Nevertheless the common room was packed, and it would seem as though people were very much settled in for a night of homework.
"Oh shut up Greg." John groaned, falling into an armchair and pulling the other one next to him, so that Sherlock could sit in close proximity. Sherlock sat down rather uncomfortably, feeling a lot of eyes on him as he bid good evening to Greg and Mike. The fire was roaring pleasantly, heating Sherlock's already sweating brow even more than he would have liked. It was almost uncomfortably warm; however he had to learn to manage. John waved his hand around for Sherlock to take hold, and as soon as he caught John's hand in midair their fingers interlocked and they smiled almost teasingly at each other.
"Don't be all nervous here Sherlock, they're all friends." John assured, evidently feeling the slight nervous tremor that was beginning in Sherlock's hand.
"I'm fine, I'm cool." Sherlock lied, shaking his head and giving John's hand a reassuring squeeze.
"Good." John said with a grin.
"Mate we were just going over the Quidditch scores, Ireland's looking good this year but have you seen Italy's chasers? Phenomenal...unstoppable! Come the world cup I'm sure they'll win." Greg said confidently, to which Mike nodded along, just a bit reluctantly.
"It'll be close, I mean they've got good chasers but their keeper is somewhat lagging, did you see that goal he let in the other day? I mean I could've saved that one!" Mike defended, puffing out his chest proudly so that everyone knew he was the quidditch keeper. It was a shame that they didn't have quidditch this year, on account of the tournament. To be quite honest Sherlock doubted that cancelling the season was necessary, certainly for John it might have been too much but there were months between the tasks, did the school really assume that people would just sit idly by without any form of entertainment? Sherlock would've liked to see John play, too, from what he's heard and seen he was a pretty solid player.
"Well then call up Italy Mike, tell them that you'll take over from here on out. Even England could beat them then!" John teased, making them all laugh in an almost regretful way.
"Well France is doing pretty good, aren't they Sherlock? They're one of the favorites." Greg pointed out; obviously noticing Sherlock's spaced out appearance as he stared carelessly into the flames. He didn't know much of quidditch, and obviously he wouldn't be able to put in much input; however it was nice that Greg made the effort.
"I'm not sure; I don't pay attention to athletics very much." Sherlock said truthfully.
"And what is it that you do pay attention to?" Greg asked, obviously seeming a bit amused with the fact that Sherlock was so out of the loop on the international sports. Sherlock thought for a moment, looking at John for support before shrugging when they both came up with nothing.
"My hair, I guess." Sherlock admitted in a small voice, to which both Greg and Mike laughed, evidently finding that as some sort of joke. John, however, who had shared two separate conversations about Sherlock's hair in the past, nodding along in understanding, for he knew that it was really nothing to laugh about.
"He's not even kidding guys, that is all he cares about." John agreed with a tease, reaching over so as to ruffle at Sherlock's curls before the boy smacked his hand away on instinct.
"I care about other things, not just my hair, but as for things I pay attention to it's really the only thing that came to mind." Sherlock defended, to which John just shook his head in loving disappointment.
"Well we at least know one other thing that he cares about." Mike agreed, nodding at John to which the boy smiled shyly.
"I do care about John, yes that's correct." Sherlock agreed with a grin, leaning over and letting John peck him on the cheek for good measure while the other boys just rolled their eyes in annoyance.
"Always so kissy with you two, honestly the number of times I've seen you guys make out is getting to fit on both hands." Greg groaned, shaking his head as if he simply couldn't believe the two's audacity.
"That's only because you're looking, trying to take notes because you don't know how to kiss anyone." John teased, making Greg shake his head in defense.
"I'll have you know I've kissed Molly many times." He said flatly. "And well, I do believe."
"Has she mentioned anything, Sherlock? About how romantic he was?" Mike teased, jabbing at Greg to which the boy fought him off rather agressivley, looking towards Sherlock so as to hear his answer.
"Oh ya, all the time. She's totally fallen for you Greg, and I should hope you share the same enthusiasm." Sherlock said with a warning glare, to which Greg nodded once more, adopting that love sick expression that Sherlock now knew only too well.
"It's cute that you're with her, and it's great that John's with Sherlock, but like...don't you think Victor will be after me next? I mean we're trios and two of the three are together." Mike muttered reluctantly, looking between his small audience with an expression of genuine fear.
"Victor's not gay, is he?" Greg wondered, to which they all laughed at him for a moment.
"You idiot, he went to the Yule Ball with Sherlock!" Mike exclaimed, to which Sherlock and John both gave each other a glare, disappointed yet rather ironic at the same time. They now both understood what a failure that ball had been all around.
"I thought that was just a friend thing?" Greg muttered blankly, to which Sherlock just shook his head a bit miserably.
"Well ya, in the moment I guess, because I was chasing after John back then. I took Victor just so that he knew that I was, well...available I guess. Gay." Sherlock said with a shrug. "Victor and I were never together."
"But he is gay?" Greg clarified.
"Oh yes." Sherlock agreed with a bit of a smile, to which Mike just nodded all the more apprehensively.
"Has he ever mentioned me then?" Mike wondered.
"No of course not, he's more into the Durmstrang boys anyway. Besides, you've got Janine don't you? Isn't that honor enough?" Sherlock teased, to which Mike gave a great shiver and looked around the common rom, almost as if he had expected Janine to be lurking in the sea of red and gold, watching him.
"That girl is a maniac. She still writes to me, I've stopped replying but she finds me in the halls, and at dinner, it's quite terrifying. I mean it's been what, two months? Maybe three? And she still things we're together." Mike muttered nervously.
"Well there's always Victor, I'm sure he's a lot less clingy." Greg teased, to which Mike shook his head with an expression of terror, obviously not liking the idea of that.
"No thanks, not really my type." Mike murmured.
"And by type you mean gender?" Sherlock presumed, to which Mike nodded enthusiastically.
"Poor Mike, restricted to only one pool of gender to find a soulmate." John teased, looking over at Sherlock with love in his eyes, as if he was so happy he had found his soulmate off of the beaten path.
"Oh stop it, as if you haven't been living 99.9% of your life as a straight boy." Mike growled, rolling his eyes as if this wasn't the first time John had been teasing them all about their being heterosexual. To be quite honest Sherlock saw John's appreciation of the wide range of bisexuality, however he wasn't so sure it was something to brag about. It certainly made you a bit different from the rest, but in most cases the very act of choosing a partner that is of the same gender usually put you a notch down the totem pole. It wouldn't seem so here, where everyone seemed too acceptant of the couple that nothing seemed to have changed, however at Beauxbatons it's definitely looked upon as rather...odd.
"Living my life with one eye closed and one side of my heart stagnant...how very painful." John agreed in an agonizing voice. Sherlock just grinned at him, happy to have been the one to open up John's heart fully to the availability of boys, however it seemed as though Greg and Mike were very much satisfied with who they were and who they loved.
"Yes well, we can't all find our Sherlock can we?" Greg said with a shrug, to which Sherlock blushed a little bit in flattery and looked off to the flames once more.
"And you can't have mine." John insisted protectively, squeezing Sherlock's hand once more and giving him a nice, proud look. Sherlock smiled back, for he was proud to have his John. The night continued with casual conversation, and eventually someone broke out the butterbeer. As the hours got later the crowds got smaller, kids were beginning to fade off up the staircases to their beds, since it was after all a school night. The boys seemed to have no interest in moving, and of course that was understandable, their being seventh years that had already mentally moved on from the education system. Sherlock wasn't on a strict sleep schedule either, and sitting here with John (somehow he had ended up sitting across his lap bridal style, with his head on his shoulder and his legs swinging off the side of the armchair) he felt as though he wouldn't be opposed to staying up until dawn. They talked of the tournament and more about quidditch of course which Sherlock tuned out, and then onto the topic of girls, which he was also exempt from. John and Greg seemed to be listening more than participating, and while they would assure Mike that the girl in question was cute they were loyal boyfriends, refusing to get into the details and always throwing out how superior their own partners were. It would seem as though Greg was very much in love with Molly for he was just about, if not more lovesick, than she was when their conversation switched to their relationship. They seemed to have already planned out their plans for after Molly departed back to France, who was going to work where so that they could stay together. It seemed like they were planning quite the future together, and of course Sherlock supported it, in fact he was sure he would have to do the same with John. It wasn't every day that he stumbled across such a beautiful, kind, and gentle human being such as the one he was sitting with right now. John had his arm around Sherlock's shoulder and was very gently playing with the bottommost curls, twirling them between his fingers as they all chattered, almost absentmindedly. And occasionally Sherlock would get sleepy, and he would let his head fall a bit heavily against the boy's shoulder, to which John would cradle him softly and whisper to him that if he wanted to go the carriage that he was certainly allowed to. And Sherlock would sit up, assure John that he was fine, and receive a kiss in return for his sacrificing his unconsciousness for meaningless conversation by the fire. When finally the conversation died down Mike announced that he was going off to bed. It was now nearly midnight, and Sherlock was getting so sleepy that he almost didn't want to get up. He could fall asleep only too easily right here with John, the flames heating him just enough as a blanket might've, the soft loll of dying conversations in the background as John's breathing rocked him to and fro. And yet he had to get up and go to the carriage, if he didn't more eyebrows would be raised and that wasn't something he wanted just about now. There were so many disgusting rumors about what they got up to; he didn't want to add more fuel to the flames by not showing up to the carriage again. John offered to walk him down, because he was a gentleman and that was what gentlemen do. Of course there was a curfew, not only for the Hogwarts students but for the Beauxbatons students as well. These curfews were long past broken, and so they both needed to make sure they weren't caught where they weren't supposed to be, wandering about the school or outside the carriage. It was Mr. Filch that was feared around here, Sherlock had gathered that quite quickly when a bunch of second years literally ran up the stairs when he approached. Sure he was grouchy, and his miserable stare was enough to make anyone fear him, however Sherlock hadn't gotten much trouble from him and so he had learned to coexist. Nevertheless, Sherlock would not be very happy to see him at this time of the night, especially when it was past curfew and Filch was out to force people into laborious and miserable detentions. Sherlock had already struggled through one of Hogwarts's demanding detentions, and of course it had done its job. He certainly wasn't anxious to step out of line again.
"Come on then, we'll be quick." John assured, patting the now exhausted Sherlock to wake. Sherlock sighed heavily, blinking a couple of times and seeing that Mike and Greg were getting to their feet and giving great yawns, stretching a bit before saying goodnight and starting their way up the stairs. Oh those lucky boys, only with a staircase in their way of a good night sleep! Sherlock envied them, for he had to go all the way around the school and to the carriage, not only that, but he had to bypass Filch as well! Oh if only he could just stay here, curled up and tired, like a sleepy little kitten. And yet he got to his feet (much with the help of John, who had gotten impatient and rather threw him to the ground) and rubbed his eyes miserably, yawning and groaning about how late it was.
"You were the one who wanted to stay up." John reminded him, giving Sherlock a quick kiss on the forehead before saying goodnight to his friends and starting out the portrait hole carefully. Sherlock knew that this was a covert operation, and that he had to be as quiet and as quick as possible. The Fat Lady wasn't helping at all, whispering to them very loudly from her frame that they should be in bed, and that outsiders weren't allowed in the common rooms past curfew. She was of course ignored, and so they ventured on, creeping down the flights of stairs almost effortlessly. Sherlock had come to understand that not only was Filch an issue, but his cat was as well, Mrs. Norris. John claimed that thing was responsible for more than half of his detentions, for when she spotted a student out of bed she would run and get her master without a second thought, meowing urgently and landing all the kids in trouble. Needless to say, no one was very fond of the cat. However it would seem as though Mrs. Norris and Filch were both absent, gone for the night, even they were too tired to patrol! And so Sherlock and John made it out of the doors no problem, darting along the grass slopes and down to where the carriage sat glittering in the moonlight, sticking out very obviously along the dark, shadowy tree line of the Forbidden Forrest. 

"So this is where I leave you." John said obviously, taking a deep breath and pausing before the carriage, rocking back and forth on his heels like he did when he was hoping for a goodnight kiss. Sherlock grinned at him, intentionally playing stupid, as if he had no idea what John was hoping for here.
"Yes, I suppose it is." Sherlock agreed. John nodded, looking off to the lake before craning his neck towards the moon, and then finally bringing his attention back to Sherlock, where it belonged.
"You look so beautiful in the moonlight." John admitted with a grin. "That's part of the reason I lost my nerve that other night, by the lake. Part of the reason I just decided to stop kidding myself."
"Well than you moon, then, for making me look beautiful." Sherlock said a bit sarcastically, looking up to the moon before saluting it while John just groaned.
"Yes well, I suppose it is partially to blame." John agreed with a grin.
"You're quite beautiful as well, in the moonlight. And in the sunlight as well, and probably in total darkness. In fact you're just kind of all-around beautiful, all around just aesthetically pleasing." Sherlock said with a confident little nod, to which John just laughed, shaking his head as if he was just exasperated by Sherlock's awkwardness.
"Well thank you Sherlock, and do know that your beauty is also not restricted to the lighting you find yourself in." John agreed.
"Well that's a relief. I'll have to become a vampire if you thought I didn't look good in the sun." Sherlock teased, although he was also being quite serious.
"No need for that of course, Sherlock." John assured with a little grin, coming closer and taking Sherlock's hands once more, rocking them both back and forth before leaning forward to kiss him quickly. Sherlock just giggled a bit, as he usually did when it was just the two of them, however he kissed him back like he was supposed to, and for a moment it was just that magical feeling once more, of being together in the moonlight, of being together in general. To think of all the agonizing days when they were alone, not only denying their feelings but rejecting them as well, so deeply in love that it had begun to borderline hatred, well that was when they had hit rock bottom. And to think that Sherlock was making up for all of those wasted nights, laying in his bed and telling himself that he would never be good enough for Joh Watson, well standing here with him now, hand in hand, it was worth it. If only his past self had come to realize that the future was better, the future was brighter, it was...well it was John Watson. What else could it be but perfect?
"Goodnight Sherlock, thanks for dealing with my friends." John said finally, pulling away before giving Sherlock's hands a final squeeze.
"They're no bother. But tomorrow you'll be here for Beauxbatons night, right? Drinking tea, braiding hair, and talking about Napoleon Bonaparte?" Sherlock teased.
"Is that really what the French get up to?" John wondered, for a moment looking quite worried about the mental stability of his foreign boyfriend.
"No of course not, of course not. But you are welcome, of course. If you'd be willing to join." Sherlock offered.

"I'd be delighted to. But until tomorrow, Sherlock Holmes." John finished, bowing ceremoniously before starting up the hill in a mad dash, his shadowed silhouette finally disappearing into the darkness as he approached the glowing castle, leaving Sherlock alone beside the carriage, smiling at the departed boy all while wishing he was by his side once more.